Folie à Deux
by LilinasWrites
Summary: A while back we had a little even on tumblr where everyone flipped their favorite trope and wrote the opposite. Since I'm deeply dedicated to my dom!Kurt/sub!Blaine, I flipped that around! So here's some plain old PWP future fic with dom!Blaine and sub!Kurt!
1. Chapter One

"Please…Blaine…my legs…I can't…"

"Keep going," Blaine commanded, his voice rough and almost as broken as Kurt's, which was ironic since Kurt was the one doing all of the work, pushing himself up and down on Blaine's cock for what felt like forever, with agonizing slowness, his hands straining against the soft rope binding them in a futile effort to escape and leverage against something, anything, to relieve his aching legs. It didn't help that every long, slow slide down Blaine's body stretched and filled him in the most perfect way, pushing him closer to the edge with every stroke, and the counterpoint of pain was destroying his concentration and making it so much harder to hold back the orgasm Blaine hadn't yet said he could have.

"It's too much," he gasped. Sweat trickled down his back and chest, but he kept moving at the slow, muscle-crushing pace Blaine had set for him. The pain in his legs just seemed to ratchet up the pressure in his balls, the need in his dick. It was all overwhelming him, running away with his self-control. "If I don't stop I'll come."

Blaine's eyes were dark and he practically leered at Kurt, like he'd never seen anything so erotic in his life. But if Kurt was expecting mercy he was disappointed.

"Don't stop. And _don't_ come."

It was all his own fault, Kurt knew, as the muscles in his thighs screamed for rest and his rock-hard balls screamed for release. He was the one who'd asked Blaine to be strict. Harsh. Cruel, he would have said, if he hadn't been afraid Blaine would take it the wrong way.

"Please…just help me…please." Kurt's hands continued to pull against the rope that held them fast behind his back, but he never faltered in his slow, steady, up-and-down pace, torturing himself with both pleasure and pain in a loop of overwhelming sensations.

"No," Blaine said simply.

Kurt threw back his head and sobbed, a long, low sound heavy with the weight of effort and frustration. His lungs struggled to pull in enough air, his legs were trembling violently on each down-stroke, his cock stood flush against his belly, dripping precome in little surges that ran in maddening, tickling trickles over the swollen head and down his shaft each time Blaine's dick slid into him in just the right way. Tears born of pure effort escaped from his eyes and he heard himself, without really making any conscious decision, begin to mutter a litany of "Please…please…please…please…"

"You are so fucking gorgeous like this." Blaine ran his hands up Kurt's chest, thumbs dampened by Kurt's sweat teasing over his nipples with little flicks that sent new spikes of pleasure shooting along Kurt's dick and pulled tiny whimpers from his throat.

"I can't, Blaine, I have to stop…"

"If you stop only one of us is coming tonight and - spoiler alert - it's not going to be you." Blaine grinned up at him, looking almost casually relaxed, only the darkness in his eyes and the rasp in his voice giving away how turned on he was. "And if you come before I say you can, believe me you won't like the punishment."

"Why did I ever…want to do this?" Kurt lamented, still forcing his body to move up and down despite his legs' and dick's eloquent protests.

"Because me threatening to punish you turns you on so much."

"You don't have to…sound so smug about it," Kurt gasped. "Maybe I'm just…a masochist…and anyone…" Kurt's voice trailed off into senseless moaning as Blaine planted his feet and tilted his pelvis so his cock pressed even harder in the exactly perfect spot and Kurt knew he was going to come, he had to come, he could feel his balls seizing up and there was no possible way to hold back any longer.

"Freeze!" Blaine's command was loud and sudden and caught Kurt mid-rise. His hands wrapped mercifully, torturously, around Kurt's cock and balls, pulling them apart, pinching them off and forcing back the orgasm Kurt needed so desperately. Kurt would have cried out if his voice wasn't already occupied with a deep moan of effort. His whole body was shaking now, struggling to hold his halfway up/halfway down position. His knees were slipping against the damp sheets and his hands, now completely beyond his control, pulled against the rope with energy he didn't even know he still possessed.

Then finally Blaine moved again, his fingers sliding up to encircle Kurt's torso and lift, taking all of Kurt's weight in his own hands.

The unexpected release from pain and effort was overwhelming; Kurt cried out his relief and if it hadn't been for Blaine's perfect grip he would have fallen, limp, onto Blaine's chest. But Blaine was strong, so strong, and fuck if that didn't turn Kurt on even more.

For just a moment Blaine's careful air of command slipped and he beamed up at Kurt in all of his puppy dog joy. "God, you're amazing. You almost came, didn't you?"

"No thanks to you," Kurt grumbled breathlessly.

"Oh, well, excuse me. I didn't realize you _wanted_ to come without permission…" Blaine's grip tightened and his feet shifted just a bit on the mattress then he was thrusting - so hard, so fast, that even without the added inducements of pain and effort, pleasure swelled threateningly again, flooding Kurt's belly, tormenting his still-aching balls, surging up the length of his cock. He closed his eyes and tried to conjure up anything - Rachel, Finn, Rachel _and_ Finn - anything that might help him hold back.

Except nothing helped because Blaine was relentless, pounding in fierce pursuit of his own orgasm now, and Kurt wanted it, needed it, he didn't care about rules or punishments. He just needed to fucking come, he'd done everything Blaine had asked, had waited so long and worked so hard, and everything hurt, everything_needed_, and it was right there, so close and creeping closer with every snap of Blaine's hips. He opened his eyes again to find Blaine's focused on him, still laser-sharp and full of challenge.

The edges of the room were getting fuzzier and Kurt could feel himself leaning even heavier in Blaine's hands. "Please stop," he panted, his voice high and thin, "I'm gonna come."

"Isn't that what you wanted? To disobey me and force me to punish you? I'm just giving you what you want, Kurt."

Kurt could see the muscles in Blaine's arms beginning to tremble with the effort of holding him in place. He was pushing himself, now, to give Kurt this thing he needed so deeply. But ultimately it was Kurt's choice to make. To give in, let go, trust that Blaine knew what he needed and how to give it to him. And even after all this time he still struggled with it. "No," he had to push the words through his tightening throat, "I want to be good for you. I want to obey."

"Then do it." Blaine's voice was implacable, demanding compliance, and Kurt moaned, because the tone of it pushed him ever more rapidly toward that place where obeying Blaine was the only option. And as if Blaine could feel it happening his thrusting slowed, lengthened, dragging out each long, gorgeous slide into and out of Kurt's body.

"Oh, fuck, please…" The pleasure was intolerable, it was burning him from the inside out, but Kurt's voice sounded far away and indistinct in his own ears and he knew he was so close - not to coming, but to letting go.

"You'll come," Blaine whispered fiercely, "when I say you can come. I control this now, Kurt." His thrusts punctuated his words perfectly. "You do what I tell you to do. You take what I tell you to take. And you wait as long as it pleases me to make you wait." His voice was trembling with intensity by the end and that was what finally did it, pushing Kurt off that last emotional ledge. Getting a glimpse of how very, very much it all turned Blaine on.

"God…yes…" he managed before words were no longer an option and he was moaning helplessly with every stroke, floating in a cloud of pleasure and need and submission to perfect Blaine. His hands stopped pulling against the rope around them. He was bound because it pleased Blaine. He ached because it pleased Blaine. He yearned because it pleased Blaine. His overwhelming desire and complete submission were food and water and sunlight to Blaine and he offered them up freely now. No more begging, no more straining, just being whatever Blaine wanted him to be.

"Oh, yeah, that's it, Beautiful. So perfect." Blaine's hips picked up speed again and his own gasping grunts joined Kurt's moans that were tipping into cries the harder Blaine thrust.

Kurt was so close, riding the edge, craving the explosive oblivion only Blaine could give him. But Blaine had him right where he wanted him now and drew it out, stroke after stroke, holding Kurt, controlling him in every possible way. If he held out until Blaine granted him permission then he'd come because that was what Blaine wanted. If he couldn't make it, if Blaine just kept at him with these glorious, hot, perfect strokes until there was no way he could hold back any more then he would come without permission because that was what Blaine wanted. And he would be punished because that was what Blaine wanted. And if Blaine came himself, and stopped, never gave Kurt permission and never pushed him over and made him stay like this, desperate and edgy for another day, or week, or month, then he would wait because that was what Blaine wanted.

And all of that was exactly Kurt wanted.

Blaine was speeding up now, breathing harshly, his hands strong against Kurt's skin, holding him still. Each thrust was reward and punishment and Blaine's grunts became cries, harmonizing with Kurt's, which began to cant upward at the end in a kind of non-verbal begging. He tried so hard to hold back but he was losing that battle, had already lost it; for the second time his balls clenched and the pleasure peaked…

"Now!" Blaine cried, sounding almost as desperate as Kurt felt. "Come now!"

And the world exploded.

Reality disappeared; Kurt's universe was reduced to his spasming balls, his surging cock, the impossible, unimaginable pleasure forcing through his body and beating against his skin from the inside like a prisoner desperate to escape. He couldn't see or hear; he had no idea if he was coming silently or screaming loud enough to wake the dead; he didn't know if Blaine had come as well or was still thrusting into his wracked, insensate body. The only thing he was aware of besides raw, tearing sensation was the rope tight around his wrists, and the feel of it, the fact of his bondage, just pushed him higher.

Eventually the impossible intensity peaked and began to ebb, and Kurt slowly descended back into his body to find himself lying prone against Blaine's heaving chest. Blaine must have come because Kurt's ass was empty and twinged with a gentle, perfect ache. He was probably heavy on Blaine, some corner of his brain warned him, but movement was impossible. Even if he hadn't been still floating in post-orgasmic bliss he was sure none of his limbs would be obeying him for a very long time.

Blaine's movement under him became more rhythmic and Kurt realized dimly that he was laughing. "Oh my God, that was amazing."

Kurt managed to open his eyes to find Blaine's so close and sparkling with emotion. He pulled his lips upward just a bit at the corners, just to show Blaine he was okay, then let his eyes slip closed again, happy to keep drifting.

Blaine's fingers stroked down his arms to the rope around his wrists. "Do you want this off?" he whispered.

"Mmm-mmm." Kurt shook his head against Blaine's chest. He almost always chose to stay bound through his afterglow. He loved how vulnerable it made him feel as Blaine kissed and petted him and eased him back to earth.

So Blaine kissed, and petted, and at some point managed to clean them up a bit, and held Kurt, humming softly in his ear, until the world began to solidify again, the gentle fog in his brain started to lift, and the itch of the sweat drying on his body became too intense to ignore. Blaine sensed the moment Kurt began to squirm and made quick work of the knots around his wrists but Kurt's first act, when his hands were free, was to pull Blaine's head closer and kiss him thoroughly. He never could find words adequate enough to express how grateful he was to Blaine for giving him this.

"You're welcome," Blaine smiled when they finally parted. He stroked gentle fingers over Kurt's cheek bone. "You really were perfect, you know. I never thought you'd last that long. I came so hard."

Kurt snuggled into Blaine's chest, rubbing his lips against the hair there. "I bet I came harder," he said.

"Well I hope you enjoyed it," Blaine said, "because it was the last one for a while."

Kurt's head jerked up and he did his best, under the circumstances, to glare. Blaine just smiled as if Kurt was the cutest thing he'd ever seen. "Well you did tell me to push you," he said, all innocence and accommodation. But then his eyes narrowed and gave his innocent smile a tinge of evil. "This was just the appetizer."

If the half-hearted throb from his completely spent cock was any indication, Kurt was in some serious trouble.


	2. Chapter Two

The trilling chimes of the Skype connection lit up his laptop with an image of Blaine's smiling face and Kurt's forehead hit the surface of his desk with a thump. He had just finally managed to get his body under control from the last time, at least under control enough that he could pretend to be evaluating the sketches in front of him, and now the cheery little tune had his dick perking up again like a salivating dog. His toweringly stupid dick that refused to get the memo that this was never going to end well for it.

It had been possibly the longest week of Kurt's life. Monday and Tuesday had been pure, undiluted frustration. Blaine missed no opportunity to touch him, everything from long, soul-searing kisses that left Kurt dizzy and melting to quick and dirty fondling against walls, counters, or any other available surface, that just left him horny as hell. He'd fucked Kurt both nights, hard and hot, attacking all of his most sensitive places until Kurt was reduced to begging to make him stop. And then he'd slept, while Kurt lay awake for what seemed like hours, listening to the soft whistle of Blaine's breathing and willing his desperate dick to just settle the fuck down.

But Wednesday had been different. Maybe it had been the accumulated lack of sleep, maybe his horniness had reached some kind of critical mass during the night, but when his alarm went off Wednesday morning Kurt hushed it then turned without thinking and curled himself around Blaine's bed-warm, naked body, his erection growing against the swell of Blaine's ass, and everything was different. He was still desperate, the desire hadn't lessened, but it felt banked, like an hours-old fire, burning just as intensely, maybe even more so, but deeper somehow, white hot coals searing in his core but without the violent crack and show of the bonfire that had been the previous two days.

Too long away from immediate contact with Blaine's body, though, and the fire would come to life again, sparking along Kurt's limbs and out through his fingers and toes, filling him with a jumpy energy that made his skin feel too tight. So their roles had reversed and it had been Kurt who now couldn't get enough of Blaine's body. He was the one grabbing, pulling, desperate to taste and touch and smell. Thursday night he came home early and waited for Blaine just inside the door, naked and on his knees, and Blaine had barely managed to choke out a "Jesus Christ, Kurt!" and slam the door before he was tearing his own clothes off and flinging them every which way. They'd fucked right there on the rug and Kurt hadn't needed to beg that time. Every stroke had seared through him but the fire was power and strength and _Blaine_ and the sounds Kurt could hear ripping from his own throat were more animal than human, primal cries that he'd never imagined he was capable of. "God I love you like this," Blaine had whispered in his ear just as his orgasm slammed through him and he spilled into Kurt with a force Kurt could feel from his toes to the roots of his hair.

Kurt hadn't even realized he was crying, lying under Blaine, riding the pounding waves of his desire and waiting for it to tamp itself back down into his core, until Blaine opened his eyes and immediately the glow of contentment in them shifted to concern. He rolled off onto the rug next to Kurt, wrapping him tight in his arms.

"Is it too much? Do we need to stop?"

It was an invitation, Kurt knew. An invitation to safeword. The tears kept coming, strange, because Kurt didn't feel like he was crying. There were no gasping sobs, not even a tiny bit of tightness in his throat. Yet water continued to course down his face.

"It is too much," he said into the muscles of Blaine's chest. But that was all he said.

Friday morning Kurt had woken up before his alarm with Blaine's morning erection pressing against his thigh and he was under the covers before he had time to make any conscious decision. He needed and he took, nuzzling into Blaine's groin, inhaling his scent, taking his thickening cock into his mouth and as far down his throat as he could. He stayed there, still, an odd lump between Blaine's legs, not licking or sucking but just holding Blaine's dick in the warmth of his mouth while his own throbbed and flexed in empty air.

Eventually Blaine began to move in tiny thrusts; Kurt didn't think he was even really awake at first, but then the even rhythm of his breathing was replaced by little moans and grunts and finally his hand snaked under the blankets to caress through Kurt's hair. "Good morning to you too," he said quietly before abandoning himself to the expert ministrations of Kurt's mouth.

That should have been enough, Kurt had thought, to hold him through breakfast, showering and getting out the door, but then their asses had grazed each other when they were crowding into their closet at the same time and before either of them even realized what was happening Kurt was on his knees, turning Blaine around, clawing at his briefs and swallowing him again. Blaine was midway through an "I don't know if I can…" when his dick took the decision out of his hands and started to lengthen and he groped at the overhead shelf for something to hold on to as Kurt attacked him. Kurt licked and sucked and swallowed like his life depended on Blaine's orgasm and soon Blaine was thrusting with abandon, deep into Kurt's throat; Kurt clasped his hands behind his back and the room started to feel to like it was growing bigger, the clothes hanging behind Blaine began to blur into a drippy rainbow of primary colors, and he was whining every time Blaine pulled back, begging for him to come, desperate for it. When Blaine finally came for the second time, spilling hot into the back of Kurt's throat, Kurt felt the strangest sensation of pleasure radiate through his body, so intense that he could have sworn that he'd come too. He expected, as he drifted back down through the haze that had taken over his brain, to hear Blaine chastising him and promising punishment. But Blaine was just sitting on the floor, holding him, caressing gentle fingers up and down his arm, and he found himself as hard and horny as ever.

Blaine stared at him for a while, evaluating, it seemed, although Kurt couldn't understand why, then he'd pulled Kurt up and settled him on the chaise in the corner, disappeared into the kitchen and come back with a glass of orange juice and an offer. He would let Kurt could come early, come tonight instead of waiting until Sunday, if Kurt would agree to do everything Blaine said today. Obey every command without complaint.

And that was how Kurt had ended up here, behind his locked office door, shifting constantly to try to find a sitting position that didn't add more pressure to his aching balls and staring unseeingly at sketches that he'd been so excited about just last week. At least no one in the office was complaining that he'd sequestered himself. He'd been so irritable and snappish all week that he was sure the general response to his locked door was overwhelming relief.

He reached for his headphones, plugged them into the computer and his ears, and for the fourth time that day accepted Blaine's call.

Blaine's face, so fresh and smiling and exactly the opposite of how Kurt felt at the moment didn't help his state of mind at all. "Seriously?" was Kurt's only hello. "Again?"

Blaine's happy grin took a decidedly evil turn. "Is that a complaint, Kurt?"

"No," Kurt sighed. He reached automatically for his fly. At least opening his pants gave his dick a little room to breathe.

"I want you to use lube this time," Blaine said from the laptop screen.

"I don't keep lube at the studio, Blaine."

"Look in the back pocket of your bag."

And sure enough, there in the pocket was a small bottle of Astroglide. Kurt groaned. It had been bad enough edging himself dry. The lube was going to make it all feel so much more amazing. He'd be able to go slower; tease himself more. There was no way Blaine wouldn't take advantage of that.

He straightened back up and gave Blaine his best pleading look, but Blaine only laughed. "That's not going to work on me, Kurt. Puppy dog eyes are my trick, not yours."

Kurt decided to give sincerity a try. He dropped the pleading animal act and leaned closer to his computer. "Just listen, okay? This isn't complaining, not really, but God Blaine, you're torturing me here. I've done everything you asked me to do. My dick has been hard for half the day and my balls feel like they're on fire. Please don't make me do this again."

The playfulness left Blaine's face and he too leaned forward, so that his face took up most of the frame of Kurt's monitor. "When is it best?" he asked simply. "When do you fly the highest and come the hardest and feel the most perfect afterward?"

Well fuck. The answer to that was obvious. It was when Kurt put himself in Blaine's hands and let Blaine push him beyond what he thought he could endure.

With a heavy sigh as his only protest, Kurt popped the top of the little bottle and squeezed some of the slippery liquid into his palm, then leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "Tell me what you want me to do."

"Maybe someday you'll learn to give in without a fight." Kurt could hear amusement in Blaine's voice.

"Please. You'd hate that. You like the challenge."

"You know me so well. Now get going."

Kurt had been right about the lube. The warmth of his hand combined with the slippery slide was complete perfection and the pleasure began to build immediately. He could tell it was going to peak so much faster than it had the other three times Blaine had talked him through an edging.

"I want you to get really close this time then just keep yourself there until I tell you to stop."

Kurt groaned and sped up his strokes, shifting at the same time to try to find a position that didn't have his tightening balls screaming in protest.

"Stop fidgeting," Blaine chastised him.

"You try not coming for a week and see how still you can manage to sit!"

"I'm not the one who wants to be controlled. You made this bed, Kurt. Now sit up straight and don't move again."

Kurt practically growled his frustration, but he did as he was told, pushing himself back into the position that put the most strain on his balls. Of course, his stupid cock throbbed even harder at the pain and it seemed like only seconds later that the looming orgasm was right there, almost too close, and his hand slammed to a stop and tightened instinctively around his erection.

There was no way Blaine could see into his lap from the camera in his monitor, but he must have known Kurt had stopped stroking because his voice in Kurt's ears was immediate and implacable. "Keep moving, Kurt. I don't care how slow you go, but I want to see that hand moving until I tell you to stop."

Kurt slid his hand as slowly as he could down the length of his shaft and back up again, not daring to go anywhere near the head, but even so the orgasm was back almost immediately, sitting heavy and hot in his balls and shooting splinter waves of sensation down his legs, up through the pit of his stomach and along the length of his cock. Each wet slide sent another frisson of pleasure through his body and tiny shudders erupted in odd places: his shoulders, his ass, the balls of his feet. "How long?" he breathed, and he could hear his voice tremble.

"Five minutes," Blaine said.

Kurt moaned out loud, too far gone to care about whether he could be heard in the outer rooms of the studio. He couldn't do it. Five minutes might as well be five hours. After all he'd been through today, this week, it was too much. He needed to come. He deserved to come. And to sit here and feel it right there, just two or three hard strokes away, for five minutes then let go and let it fade away was going to break him.

"I don't think I can," he finally said, quiet and sincere. "Please, Blaine, I need it. I've never needed anything like this."

"You can do it, Kurt."

Kurt shook his head. "If you were here, if … if I could touch you maybe. I can't do it by myself."

"Open your eyes," Blaine said and Kurt forced his eyelids up and focused on Blaine's image on his computer screen. Blaine was smiling, all trace of command or dominance gone. It really wasn't fair, Kurt thought, that he was so beautiful. And his eyes. Blaine's eyes were more eloquent on the subject of love than all of Shakespeare's sonnets put together. Those eyes, looking at him like that, made Kurt want to prostrate himself on the floor at Blaine's feet and beg forgiveness for being so weak and lose himself in worshipful awe.

"I know," Blaine said, "what you need. I know where you want go and how to get you there. But Kurt, you have to trust that. You have to believe that I would never ask you to do something that I didn't think you were capable of. It's scary to let go, I know that, but it's going to be so amazing. I promise. You just have to let go and trust me."

"I do, I trust you, you know that," Kurt nodded as he spoke, hand still clutching his cock, which pulsed against the restraint. "It's just really hard." He hated the whine in his voice, but Blaine didn't seem to notice.

"It has to be hard. You're the one who told me that."

They were both silent then, for a moment, and Kurt knew that Blaine was waiting, as he had before, for him to safeword. When Kurt didn't speak again, Blaine's smile grew wider. "Close your eyes. The five minutes starts now."

Kurt gave himself a fresh drizzle of lube and leaned back, eyes closed, to stroke again. He didn't shortcut this time. His hand moved ever so slowly, but he didn't neglect any part of his cock, thumbing over the head, letting his fingers tease past the frenulum and opening himself up to every sensation.

"You're so incredible, Kurt," Blaine said and his voice through the earbuds made it feel almost as if he was inside Kurt's head. "You were perfect to me before we ever started doing this and then you gave me this incredible gift, when you'd already given me everything I could have ever dreamed of. I wish you could see how hard I am right now."

The pleasure was building again, pushing toward completion in swells that took Kurt's breath away and felt like they were lifting him right off of his chair. Kurt knew, though, he'd always known that he needed to feel them. The pleasure and the denial and the aching frustration. This was his choice. He'd chosen this. He'd asked for it. And Blaine's voice was an anchor, keeping him tethered.

"I don't even know how it's possible, after this morning. You blew me twice, Kurt. But looking it you, God, you are the most erotic thing I've ever seen. If I didn't want to actually come _with_ you tonight I'd be jerking off right now. I have no clue what I ever did to deserve any of this - to deserve you in the first place - but whatever it was I'm so fucking glad I did it. God, I love you so much, Kurt…"

And so it went on, forever, it seemed to Kurt, and whenever he slipped and it all started to feel out of control Blaine would talk him down, the perfect voice in his head telling him that everything was going to be okay. And the desperate urge to push his body over the edge, no matter how acute it became as he stroked and teased himself, was endurable, and the pain in his balls settled into a kind of deep, hot ache that was wonderful and terrible at the same time. He managed to stay in control, somehow, until Blaine finally said stop. Kurt had to force his hands off his cock, but when they were firmly wrapped around the arms of his chair he finally gave in to the rip tide of frustrated sensation. Shudders wracked his body and his hips pumped and pumped, but with no friction orgasm was impossible.

And Blaine just kept talking.

Eventually the spasms relaxed and it got easier to breathe. Kurt's hands unclenched (he was sure he'd left fingernail crescent holes in the leather) and he opened his eyes to see Blaine's still staring straight at him, still speaking volumes of love and desire.

"See. You survived."

"Fuck you," Kurt said, but he managed a smile when he said it. "Please tell me that was the last one."

"That was the last one."

"And please tell me I can come home now so we can finally end this."

Blaine's smile widened. "You can come home now."

"Thank God." Kurt was already shoving his still-hard dick into his pants and fumbling for his bag where he'd dropped it after fetching the Astroglide.

"But first …" Blaine's voice pulled Kurt's attention back to the laptop screen.

"Fuck! What now?"

The evil glint was back in Blaine's eyes and the sight of it sent Kurt's stomach into freefall.

"I put something else in your bag this morning. Front pocket. I want you to wear it home."

Kurt groaned and reached reluctantly into the front pocket of his bag. "Wear it" could only mean a few things and none of them were good. His fingers snagged on soft velvet and he pulled the black drawstring bag out into the light, holding it between two fingers like it was something dangerous.

"Open it," Blaine said.

The polished black stone butt plug dropped from the bag into Kurt's palm and sat there, gleaming in the glare from the overhead light.

"No way." Kurt stared incredulously at Blaine. "You're crazy. I can't wear this home."

"Well, if you want to wait to come until Sunday …"

"On the train, Blaine? I can't. I'll be hard the whole time."

"Then I guess it's a good thing you have a coat."

Kurt's jaw clenched and he glared at Blaine's face in his monitor, searching for something to say that would get him out of this. But Blaine was implacable. "It's very simple Kurt. Unless you come through that door wearing that plug, you're not coming until Sunday. It's your choice, just like always. See you soon."

The connection ended abruptly and Kurt wrenched at the earphones and flung them onto his desk. No. No. It wasn't fair. Blaine had no right to ask him to do this. On the train. The fucking train! He'd jumped through so many hoops this week and he was tired and desperate and his balls hurt and he just wanted to fucking _come_.

Kurt ranted in his head, cursed and fumed and bitched silently at Blaine until eventually he ran out of words and anger and indignation and was left right where he'd started. Horny and desperate. He heaved a sigh and reached for the plug and the little clear bottle of Astroglide. Because he really had only ever had one choice.


	3. Chapter Three

Kurt flew through their apartment like he'd been shot out of a cannon, not turning on any lights, only pausing the forward momentum long enough to close the door quietly, because a hasty slam might be taken for _complaint_ and he was damned if he was going to do anything to jeopardize his chances of getting off, finally, preferably _right the fuck now. _

His coat and bag landed in a heap on the sofa; his tie was abandoned on the floor and he had his shirt half unbuttoned and was tugging it out of his pants to just jerk it over his head when he crossed the threshold to their bedroom and froze.

The bed had been stripped down to just a fitted sheet, plain black, on which were scattered rose petals, blood red and sunshine yellow of course. Black ropes were already attached to the four bedposts. They were the thin, soft ones that Blaine loved so much because of the contrast they made against Kurt's fair skin, and their unattached ends lay innocently on the mattress in just the spots that Kurt's wrists and ankles would rest if he were lying spread-eagled on the big bed. Both nightstands were pushed back against opposite walls and covered with white candles of all shapes and sizes. Their flickering light was the only illumination in the room but there were so many of them that the result was warm and just bright enough and, Kurt couldn't help thinking, would make his bare skin glow beautifully.

It looked like an altar in a misty, kinky pre-Raphaelite painting. And Kurt was the sacrifice.

And there at the foot of the bed was Blaine, the smiling high priest in tight black leather pants and a purple dress shirt. Holding a crop.

The breath fled Kurt's body and the negative pressure it left behind had Kurt grasping dizzyingly for the doorframe. They almost never used the crop. Pain play, when Kurt could give himself up to it, was the most sublime, ecstatic, transcendent sexual experience imaginable. But to get to that point - to find that place of complete surrender - took so much fucking work. Kurt had to be beyond horny. Beyond needy or desperate. He had to be in that place where the mere touch of Blaine's fingers could send him flying. Where he would do absolutely, literally anything to be allowed to come.

_Oh._

Blaine said something, but Kurt could only stare at him, stupidly, because there were no more blood cells left in his brain.

Blaine smiled, took a step closer - brought the crop a step closer - and said it again. "Keep going. Take off your clothes."

They fell to the floor. Kurt was naked in seconds, defenseless. Vulnerable. He clasped his hands in the small of his back without being told, leaving every delicate part exposed for Blaine's inspection.

Blaine came closer - Blaine and the crop - close enough to touch but not touching. He stared up at Kurt and his gorgeous eyes were full of love and desire and challenge. He waited, giving Kurt time to decide, and when Kurt's silence stretched on he began to swing the crop against his own leg, just hard enough that the tongue slapped against the leather of his pants with a high, bright snap. It wasn't quite how it would sound on his skin - Kurt knew the exact difference in pitch and resonance contact with flesh would make - and suddenly he was trembling from head to toe.

Finally Blaine reached out with his empty hand and pulled Kurt's head down just a little, into kissing distance. "Don't move," he whispered as he pressed their lips - only their lips - together in a kiss that made Kurt wonder how something so sweet and gentle and _reverent_ could be coming from a man in leather holding a whip. But then he was too lost in the touch of Blaine's skin and the taste of his mouth to think anymore at all.

As they kissed, Blaine's fingers moved from the back of Kurt's neck and skated down his spine, leaving prickles of gooseflesh in their wake. They whispered along the crack of Kurt's ass then dipped unerringly in to touch the base of the plug. He rocked it gently, just enough to make Kurt whimper but not enough to make it impossible to keep still. He pulled back just enough to give Kurt a smug smile. "Good choice," he said.

"As if I ever have a choice with you," Kurt said.

"I love you so fucking much," was Blaine's only reply. He leaned in again and pressed his lips, soft and hot, to Kurt's, and at the same time tugged gently on the plug until it came free, sliding wetly out of Kurt's ass and leaving him empty and grasping.

"You should get on the bed," Blaine said, lips gliding over Kurt's as he spoke.

It should have felt like the biggest choice of all, maybe, walking over to the bed where Blaine was going to tie him down and do God knows what to him with that crop, but really it was the easiest thing in the world. Kurt was already starting to float a little in and around the sound of Blaine's voice, and his desire was singing, rather than screaming, through his body. They were here at the dénouement, the final approach. He knew how this went, and his ass was already aching for the sting of the crop.

"Not like that. I want you on your back."

Kurt froze halfway on the bed and twisted his head to stare back at Blaine, who simply raised one pointed eyebrow and began to snap the crop against his leg again.

Kurt was trembling harder than ever as he turned around and lay down on top of the scattered rose petals. He arranged his arms and legs near the ropes Blaine had left for him. His cock was practically dancing against his belly, achingly aware of its vulnerability.

Blaine grinned at Kurt like he'd done something wonderful just by lying down. He set the plug carefully on one of the nightstands, moved around the bed and laid the crop on the mattress alongside Kurt's stretched-out torso. Then he stroked both hands up Kurt's legs and back down again. Kurt closed his eyes and lost himself in the feel of Blaine's hands finally firm on his skin. It aroused him and grounded him at the same time and Kurt was almost purring by the time Blaine moved to one side and took Kurt's left foot in his hand.

"Look at me, Kurt."

He opened his eyes to find Blaine staring at him with the excited little boy "can you believe we're doing this?" grin that he tended to lapse into at the most inappropriate times. But Kurt could never resist little-boy Blaine and he grinned back and stretched his arms out even farther, wriggling his fingers and doing his best to look provocative.

"You don't have to hold back any more, okay? You can come whenever you get there." Blaine's fingers began gently massaging the ball of Kurt's foot and down the instep.

"God, thank you," Kurt breathed.

"Don't get too excited. I don't plan on getting you there anytime soon."

But _when_ he was going to come suddenly seemed completely unimportant. After this past week of struggle Kurt found the simple luxury of not needing to fight his body any more overwhelming. He hadn't realized how much tension had been packed into his shoulders, his hips, the tiny muscles of his face, until he was finally free to relax and let it all sink into the bed. He could swear he even felt his balls soften and stretch away from his body - still full and heavy but no longer drawn up in their need.

Blaine set Kurt's foot down on the mattress and carefully wrapped the soft rope around his ankle and tied it off, then he treated Kurt's right foot to the same ritual. By the time both his legs were secure and immobile Kurt was moaning freely, the combination of warm, relaxing touch and tight restraint wreaking havoc on his higher brain functions.

Blaine's fingers traced a line up Kurt's right leg, tipping inward to stroke his thigh, brush his balls and slide along his cock before they drifted out again, over the bumps of ribs, across a peaked nipple, tickling through the sparse hair in Kurt's armpit and up the length of his arm. Kurt expected more massaging but he was surprised by warmth and wetness; Blaine was sucking on his fingers, licking tiny patterns into his skin, one by one, and God, he knew how sensitive Kurt's hand were. He'd made Kurt come once just by sucking his fingers and now he teased Kurt relentlessly with his lips and tongue, only stopping when Kurt's cock was dancing again, pushing into the air in rhythmic throbs.

And after that wrist was wrapped and tied Kurt had to endure it all again, the slow journey of Blaine's fingers back down his body, around the bottom of the bed and up the other side and the tickling, teasing pleasure of Blaine's oral assault on his fingers.

Then both hands were tied and Kurt was finally helpless, exposed, and tingling with need. Blaine finished the last knot and leaned down to kiss him, gentle lips and searing tongue, then he nipped at Kurt's chin, nuzzled his neck, and finally pulled away so that their only contact was Blaine's hand settling in the middle of Kurt's chest.

Kurt opened his eyes then and smiled up at Blaine, his beautiful boyfriend and lover, and Blaine smiled back and picked up the crop that Kurt had almost - almost - forgotten.

"I wish you could see yourself," Blaine whispered. His voice was strained and the desire in it sent a shudder through Kurt's body. "Your skin against the sheet - it's going to be so beautiful when I'm done marking it."

Blaine trailed the tongue of the crop up Kurt's leg from ankle to hip, over his balls and straining cock, back and forth across his chest in a zigzag that somehow managed to brush his nipples on every pass. Kurt's limbs pulled reflexively at the ropes that bound them, trying to protect him from the pain that was coming, but Blaine just kept teasing his thighs, his feet, his defenseless balls. Kurt's body was beyond his control; it moaned and twisted and pushed up into the air to beg for attention. He abandoned himself to sensation and need, so, so grateful to Blaine for the permission he'd been given to simply _feel_.

And then with no warning at all the crop slapped hard at the inside of Kurt's thigh and he cried out - his legs fought futilely to try to pull together and his back arched high off the mattress. The crop fell again inside the opposite thigh, then again closer to his knee, and then opposite again, then two more up high in his groin, dangerously close to his cock and balls. Then Blaine paused and rested his hand again in the center of Kurt's chest while Kurt fought to control his breath and the fiery pain in his legs.

"That's it, baby," Blaine's voice was soothing and soft. "Just breathe. Let go. This is only the beginning." He stroked the tongue of the crop up and down Kurt's cock, a tease and a threat that curled fear and desire so tightly entwined in Kurt's belly that he couldn't tell one from the other. Then Blaine's restraining hand disappeared and the crop slid upward, over the head of Kurt's cock, past his navel, up his heaving chest to flick dangerously over his left nipple.

"Get ready," was the only warning Blaine gave, "this is going to hurt." The crop began to fly again, smacking against the sensitive nub and tearing loud, abrupt cries from Kurt's throat. This time it was his hands that pulled hard against the restricting ropes to try to protect himself from the pain but it was in vain, of course, he couldn't move and the sting on his abused nipple bloomed into hot fire as the leather snapped over and over against his skin, ringing in his ears with the exact sound he'd anticipated when it had been smacking Blaine's leg.

Tears began to collect behind Kurt's eyelids and spill out from under them down his cheeks and he could hear himself chanting, "Please, please, please," over and over, begging for mercy, but Blaine ignored him completely, letting the crop bounce its way across his chest to smack just as mercilessly at the right nipple. Kurt's cock was rock hard, despite the fiery pain in his chest, and his hips pumped off the bed in time to his pleas - the heat of pain and the heat of desire were getting all confused somehow and Kurt wasn't sure anymore if he was begging for mercy or for more. Then Blaine's free hand wrapped around his cock and that was it. The final piece of the puzzle. The signal Kurt hadn't known he was waiting for. His straining arms dropped heavy to the mattress. His shoulders relaxed; his breathing deepened. The crop made its way back to the left and although Kurt's cries were as loud as ever he knew now that he wanted the pain. He needed it in ways he couldn't even understand. He was floating on it, each stroke making him feel lighter and looser, and Blaine had given him permission so he let himself go, turned himself over to the heat and the need and the sharp spikes of pleasure Blaine's fingers were teasing from the head of his cock. He existed only as pure sensation and he cried out now for more, more, more.

The crop was gone suddenly, although the waves of heat still radiated along Kurt's limbs and the gentle fingers still pulled surges of desire up from his balls and along his aching length. Each exhale was a short, sharp whimper; an audible expression of the sensations overwhelming Kurt's body. He was beyond asking for anything - less or more. He simply existed in whatever form Blaine wanted him to exist at this exact moment.

Then the hand left his body as well and for just a moment Kurt was alone, drifting with no anchor. As beautiful as it was, it was all too much to endure without Blaine there to keep him safe and his cries pitched up into begging but the hand was back almost immediately, warm over his ribs this time. A whisper of "I'm right here baby," tickled his ear and then, without warning, his stinging left nipple was surrounded by a perfect wet heat. Blaine's tongue began soft and soothing but soon picked up speed, flicking the abused flesh with quick flutters that made Kurt's body stiffen and his dick pulse with need. He could feel his balls start to clench, precome dripped onto his belly and Blaine sucked _hard_ and Kurt was going to come, just from this, from Blaine's mouth on his nipple.

Except it was never going to be that easy. At the last possible second Blaine's mouth disappeared and left Kurt hanging, as he'd done all through this godforsaken week, pumping and pushing and keening his frustration through clenched teeth. Blaine's hand settled this time on Kurt's hip and refused to move any closer to his cock, no matter how Kurt twisted and writhed under it.

"Settle down, beautiful," Blaine said, in the exact tone one would use to calm a panicked animal. "You're almost there. Just one more thing I want to do."

Kurt's fingers curled around the ropes that held them fast to the bedposts and his brain began to chant Blaine's words like a mantra. _Almost there … almost there … almost there._ But he lost his train of thought when something soft stroked gently over his balls and he realized it was the leather tongue of the crop.

His eyes flew open for the first time since the pain had begun and he stared pleadingly up at Blaine, who was now somehow naked, although Kurt couldn't remember him taking off his clothes. Blaine's cock stood up between his legs, as hard as Kurt's and his eyes were dark and avid and implacable. He made no move, just let the crop rest there against Kurt's balls.

"No, please, Blaine, God, just let me come. I can't take it. I can't. You have to know I can't."

Blaine's expression didn't change at all. "This was our deal, Kurt. Total obedience."

"I can't!"

Blaine waited, staring deep into Kurt's eyes, while Kurt shook his head and pulled against his restraints and begged in every non-verbal way he could think of. But he didn't speak again. He didn't speak, and they both knew that was all that mattered.

The corners of Blaine's mouth pulled up just a tiny bit and he moved the crop so that the tongue brushed against the left side of Kurt's scrotum. "One here," he said softly, "one here" - he moved the crop to touch the other side of the sac - "and one here." The leather teased near the head of Kurt's cock. "Then I'll suck you until you come so hard you forget your own name. Or you can say no, and I'll untie you and we'll wait until Sunday like I planned."

"This isn't fair!" Kurt wailed. He knew he sounded like a petulant child but he was far too afraid of the crop on his balls to care.

Blaine leaned close to Kurt's face, that little infuriating smile still playing on his lips. "There are lots of reasons that we do this but being fair has never been one of them. Your choice Kurt. As always."

"I can't wait until Sunday. Not now. I can't Blaine." He was begging for mercy, but he knew Blaine wasn't going to offer any.

"Is that your answer?"

Kurt nodded, a rough jerk up and down, and tears filled his eyes, but at the same time his cock spasmed with excitement and he felt more precome drip down onto his belly.

Blaine's shape was blurred by tears but Kurt could see that he was trembling with the force of his own need. Blaine took a deep breath and settled a hand back where it had been at the start, firm on Kurt's leg, and he gazed down at Kurt as if he was the most beautiful thing in the universe.

"Just three, baby. I'll make them fast. Then it's all over, I promise."

Kurt just nodded again, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes

The leather brushed down his cock then lifted away. For an eternal moment everything was silent and still.

Kurt heard the crop swing a split second before his balls erupted in fiery agony and he screamed even as his cock pulsed out another gout of precome and the second stroke fell, opposite the first; his body convulsed against the ropes, and then the third like no pain or pleasure Kurt had ever experienced landed just under the head of his cock and he was dying and he was coming and Blaine's mouth was hot around him as his balls shrieked with the pain of finally, finally releasing after an eternity of denial. Kurt cried and came and came and _came_until the sound of his own voice started to muffle in his ears and he couldn't feel his hands or feet and still he came, each spasm of ecstasy accompanied by a spike of pain that just seemed to ratchet the pleasure higher. He came until he couldn't breathe anymore, until his muscles twisted and cramped and still his cock pulsed, empty and dry and spent but still twinging with little aftershocks of pleasure.

When it was finally over Kurt lay limp on the bed, unable to move so much as an eyelid. He barely felt the loss of Blaine's warm, wet mouth around his cock, but he turned his head, instinctively seeking contact, when Blaine's voice whispered in his ear.

"Ropes on or off?"

"Off," Kurt said faintly. He was shivering and all he wanted was to be wrapped up in Blaine's arms and held and told that he was wonderful.

Blaine moved quickly, making short work of the knots that bound Kurt to their bedposts. But even free Kurt couldn't bring himself to move. Blaine spread their comforter over him then maneuvered his body for him, pulling his arms down and lifting him to rest on Blaine's chest, wrapped tight in strong, warm arms.

He had no idea how long he lay there, Blaine murmuring beautiful words in his ear between kisses dropped on his head, his temple, and anywhere else Blaine could reach. He didn't know what Blaine said. He didn't need the exact words so much as the tone of them. He could hear approval and love and awe in Blaine's voice and he nestled deeper against his lover's chest and floated in the warmest, safest place imaginable and, when movement was possible again, wrapped an arm around Blaine's waist and held him tight.

Blaine took the arm as a sign and paused his litany of adoration. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to move tomorrow," Kurt's voice felt rough in his throat. "You're going to have to take care of me." He tilted his face up and Blaine smiled and kissed him very, very gently.

"I promise I will. I'll bathe you and massage you and hand feed you if that's what you want."

"I can probably do without the hand feeding," Kurt said. "Wait, but what about you?" Kurt slid his hand down Blaine's body to find his cock soft and damp between his legs.

"I came when you did. There was no way I could have held back. You were the most beautiful, erotic thing I've ever seen in my life. In fact," Blaine shifted a little and his lips twisted into a tiny grimace, "between the two of us we made quite the mess. You're just still too blissed out to notice the wet spots. And the squashed rose petals."

"Well good. That'll give you some time to clean up before I start bitching at you."

Blaine's laugh rumbled under Kurt's ear and his arms tightened. "Bitch away. You earned it tonight."

"Please. I earned bitch rights for the next decade tonight. I can't believe you did that!"

"You loved it. You came harder than you've ever come before, admit it."

Kurt reached up and pulled Blaine's head down to shut him up with a kiss and for a few minutes they lost themselves to the gentle press of lips and teasing brushes of tongues. When they parted he smiled into Blaine's shining, golden eyes.

"I loved it. I came harder than I've ever come before. But let's just make this once in a while, okay? My body can't take that too often."

Blaine smiled back and nuzzled his nose against Kurt's. "Deal."


End file.
